


Good Riddance

by Harukami



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1592312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Koujaku meets Aoba's burden and comes to realize that he's really nothing like Koujaku's ink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Riddance

The first time Koujaku meets Aoba's other self he has to rein himself in from his total anger. It's not the same as his ink (he tells himself) and that laughing, sly look, so similar to Ryuhou's -- it's not Ryuhou.

It still pounds through him, churning in his stomach, making him feel unwell as he plasters a smile on his face.

"You're the other one, then."

"I'm Aoba," the other one says, and smiles at him. "Aoba's having a bad dream, so I thought I'd come out and say hi."

"You should leave."

Aoba('s body?) spreads fingers against Koujaku's chest, curling against the tattoo just over where it crosses his nipple. "I live here," he says. "Always inside Aoba's skin. Not on his skin like yours, you know? Aoba's mind is my mind. Aoba's body is my body. Aoba's blood, his breath, his semen, it's all mine."

In some weird way, that was both more information than he'd wanted, and enough to help him get his sense of control over his temper back. They'd both made the promise to keep the other in control, but that didn't mean the situations they were dealing with were the same. 

"You need to give Aoba back."

"Oh?" Aoba leans up close and Koujaku is struck with the realization that his options are incredibly limited. If he uses any sort of force, he can hurt the real Aoba, and if he doesn't, this Aoba can overcome him easily. He just puts his hands against this Aoba's shoulders, a passive resistance. "I can't give Aoba back," the other Aoba says. "I'm him. He's me. And he's asleep right now."

Koujaku drags in an unsteady breath. "Having a nightmare, you said."

The other Aoba's fingers drift, starting to stroke Koujaku's nipple. It's warm and familiar, Aoba's familiar touch, and he draws a sharp breath against his curling arousal, and pushes again.

"Stop."

"Why? You've slept with me dozens of times now. Do you think that just because that Aoba isn't aware when I do things, I'm not aware when Aoba does? We've made tender love, even if neither of you realized it."

"You're lying."

"You got a nosebleed the first time we had sex," Aoba says, and brushes Koujaku's face with his fingertips. "It was intensely embarrassing for you and I loved it. That you wanted me so much you bled. That you found me so goddamn sexy. Do you want to bleed for me again?"

"You need to stop."

"You didn't listen to _Aoba_ say those words until I made you," Aoba purrs. It actually takes Koujaku a moment to realize what time he's talking about. "Yet you both treat me like a villain. Like I've done anything but save you along the way. Isn't that rude? You both hate me so much even though all along I've only ever destroyed the things in the way of your relationship."

Despite himself, a sense of shock runs through Koujaku. "That -- what do you mean, that was you?"

"Aoba said it himself, didn't he?" the other Aoba says. "The headaches he gets when he uses Scrap. The fact that his power is tied to another person inside himself. But you two still don't put two and two together? When have I used my powers on you?"

"..." Koujaku can't reply, breathing low and deep.

"One. To stop the bickering so we could save our beloved grandmother. Two, to save you from raping me. Three, to prevent you from going after Ryuhou unprepared. Four, to save you from going insane. To destroy the past which was holding you back completely." He ticks them off with flicks of Koujaku's nipple. "But I'm a villain? I'm someone you need to protect Aoba from?"

Koujaku swallows. It's an argument that's impossible to address; still, he has to try. For Aoba's sake. "It was your power, but-- It's Aoba who is being overcome by it. Even if it's your power, it's Aoba's to use at times like that. Even if it's you, if Aoba doesn't want you there, he's the one that matters."

Aoba's fingers curl into a fist and it pounds into Koujaku's chest. It hurts, though not enough to trouble Koujaku. He catches Aoba's hand regardless. "...What about me?!"

"You're the one leaving Aoba in a nightmare. You tortured him with headaches. You--"

Voice cracking, Aoba squeezes his eyes shut. " _He_ did that! _Denying_ me did that! Running from me did that! He's as bad as you are, and you've never noticed! Or maybe you don't care--" Aoba looks down for a moment, then glares up, gold eyes pale, a vicious smile on his face. "That's it, isn't it?"

Koujaku's fingers tighten on his fist. "I remember you trying to take over Aoba," he says. "Even if you used Scrap for good purposes -- if you were also using it it to weaken him and strengthen yourself, to aim to take over his body, you did us no kindness."

Aoba lets out a disbelieving laugh. "I've done you no kindness? That's what you're saying?"

"It's --"

"Have I done nothing for you? When I gave Aoba the power to pull you out of yourself?" He seems to be getting angrier but something just -- stops, that anger seems to hit a wall and deflate. Yellow eyes flick downward. "Ahh," Aoba says. "I really am nothing to either of you."

He falls silent then and Koujaku feels a sick uncertainty curl inside his stomach. Aoba's still making those un-Aoba-like expressions, but he's biting his lower lip with an open and visceral misery now. He worries at it hard enough he starts to bleed and Koujaku hisses, puts his free hand to Aoba's mouth.

That seems to snap Aoba out of his moment; he jerks back abruptly, scuttling back across the bed on his free hand and rear. "What are you going to do? This is my body too!" Aoba yells at him, tugging at his hand Koujaku's still holding. "You can't stop me from at least using my own body to express my own feelings! Oh, unless you'd like to express them for me? Cover my mouth and whisper 'It's fine' at me until I have to leave to stop hearing it?" His bloodied lip twists into a smile. "You're the worst. You disgust me. I feel sick when I'm with you!"

It's wrong to think it -- wrong when Aoba is hurting, wrong when he promised Aoba to defend him, but he can't help it. _What if Aoba was angry instead of sad_ , he wonders. He's heard from Tae that while he was away, Aoba had gone through a stage like that, of being angry at the world, of lashing out at everything. It's a potential he knows Aoba contains in himself, and one that hadn't risen up while he had someone there with him, even just Koujaku. But when he'd felt abandoned, when he'd felt alone, when he felt that the people who'd loved him were ignoring him... That's what he became.

If Aoba really is in two parts, if this really is Aoba as well--

Koujaku tugs the wrist he's holding, yanking Aoba forward even as he releases his grip, and pulls Aoba into his arms, wraps them tight around him and holds on. "I'm sorry," he says. 

"Bastard!" Aoba's nails dig into his back, tear at his skin. He can feel his skin give under it, and can't care; he has enough scars to last a lifetime; a few more gained from love don't matter, and at best, they could cover up the ink living in his skin. Let Aoba tear at his flesh, in lust or anger; it doesn't have the power to hurt him. "Bastard, let go!"

"I won't let you go."

"You just admitted you couldn't believe I'm him! You said I've done you no kindness! Don't think I don't know this is a lie!"

Koujaku kisses Aoba's tense neck, and says, "I was wrong. I think I understand now, Aoba. Don't think I don't know my own Aoba."

"I've never been yours!" Aoba yells. "The only person I've ever been is Aoba's, and even he threw me away --" and this, apparently, is more than he meant to say, because he begins to sob.

He bites into Koujaku's shoulder to cover up the sound, choking and gagging and strangling his own cries grossly, teeth digging in until Koujaku feels blood well up there, too. He keeps clawing at Koujaku's back like he's in a trap, like he could dig his way through Koujaku to freedom, and Koujaku winces against the pain, but keeps holding him, rubs broad comforting hands down his back over and over until Aoba shudders, has to release Koujaku's shoulder from his teeth.

"I hate you," Aoba breathes, with no heat in it at all, and goes limp.

He stiffens again a moment later with a pained sound, and Koujaku feels his heart leap into his throat. "Aoba--"

"Nnh... my head..." Aoba whimpers, and then draws a ragged breath. "Koujaku, what -- holy shit! Holy shit, are you okay? Nn -- did I -- I attacked you during my nightmare!"

"No," Koujaku says. "You didn't."

"What -- no, you're bleeding -- I'm so sorry," Aoba stammers. His eyes are half-shut with pain and exhaustion, but he starts reaching around with one arm regardless. "Tissues, tissues--"

"Leave it."

Aoba makes a pained noise. "Koujaku, I hurt you!"

"No," Koujaku says. "Stop avoiding it."

"I'm not, I'll treat it--"

"You're ignoring what just happened," Koujaku says, gently. He doesn't release Aoba from his arms. "Don't give in."

Aoba goes still. "What?"

"...There's something you need to acknowledge. You're running from it, from the truth inside you." He lets go, but only enough to cup Aoba's face. "Don't give in."

"I don't... understand," Aoba says, in a small, miserable voice, that makes Koujaku think that, perhaps, Aoba might.

"I don't have Scrap," Koujaku says. "But the least I can do is -- destroy the things in your way, your denial. Ah, I'm sorry if it hurts. Bear with me," he says.

And he begins to tell Aoba what happened.


End file.
